Come Hell or High Water
by ItsMadness
Summary: The Bifröst shatters, but Loki does not let go. Maybe this time, things will turn out right. Oneshot.


**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thor, or any of the characters/situations within. No money is being made from the fan-written work of fiction.**

**Enjoy!**

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The last blow of Mjölnir shattered the bridge with explosive force, sending Loki careening into the air. Shards of glittering glass sliced armor and skin alike, and an eruption of not-quite-smoke and light engulfed everything within thirty meters. The blast was concussive, the din roaring in his ears and Loki considered it a miracle he managed to keep Gungnir in his grip when it felt as if his limbs would be ripped away in the explosion.

The smoke cleared within a few seconds, or perhaps his eyes had adjusted enough to see. Outstretched arms flailed instinctively to find a grip, something to halt his fall- for he was falling now, and at an alarming speed. Gravity seemed to pull him towards the edge, working intensely to suck him into the growing darkness below.

He felt a rough yank on Gungnir, felt his fall halt so abruptly his shoulder screamed out in protest. He glanced up only briefly, but his eyes did not register the identity of his savior, for in his peripheral vision he caught a glimpse of a flapping red cape. Loki's free hand snatched out, seemingly without permission, in a mad grab for Thor's cape.

The cloak gave a heart-stopping rip, but by some miracle held fast. Thor dangled like a lead weight, and Loki spared a moment to be grateful the thunderer did not hold Mjölnir in his grasp- the warrior was heavy enough as is. Loki was by no means weak, but gravity was pulling Thor downwards while Gungnir was being pulled upwards and Loki felt as if he'd be split in two by the opposing forces. It certainly didn't help that Mjölnir had broken several ribs while it pinned him to the Bifröst earlier, the injury setting his upper body on fire.

Thor was hanging like a rag doll, looking at Loki with impossibly wide blue eyes, but he dared not grab his cape to pull himself up lest the fabric rip entirely. Tendons stood out in his younger brother's neck as he fought against the growing gravity from the void below, giving everything he had to ensure Thor would not fall. Odin's silver hair blew in the wind, kneeling on the broken bridge above them as he held Gungnir in a death grip. The sharp contours of the top end of the staff cut into their father's hands, and blood was slowly falling from the Allfather's hands into Loki's black hair, dripping down his face.

The Allfather was lifting them up, pulling the staff inch by inch, but his blood made the golden metal slick and the staff slipped in his grip. The princes dropped a foot, hearts lurching in fear as Thor's cape gave another small ripping sound.

"You must lift him up, Loki!" Their father's barked command was strained, teeth gritted as he held fast to Gungnir. The abyss beneath them was growing, and with it came the increased strain of holding on to Thor and the staff. Loki's skin shone with a layer of cold sweat, his fingers clenching around Gungnir until his entire hand was white. Thor could see his nails scraping the metal like a cat attempting to anchor itself to the ground, but Odin's blood had slid far enough down the staff to make the trickster's grip unsteady.

"_Nnngh-_ _I cannot_!" came the strangled cry. Thor felt his heart leap in his throat.

"You _must_!" Odin ordered, voice heard even over the roaring of the wind. Loki's adam's apple bobbed, inner turmoil shining briefly behind the trickster's green eyes until it was replaced with flinty determination.

The dark-haired god grunted, giving a strained groan as he attempted to lift Thor from his cape, pulling against overwhelming gravity. The thunderer heard a muffled snap, and saw with alarm as blood began to dribble from the corners of Loki's lips, but still the trickster pulled.

Thor was rising several inches, and soon he would be able to reach out and grab Loki's boot.

_Just a little more brother..._

As if that one thought had been the final straw, the red cape in Loki's hands gave a loud tear. Thor tumbled, flailing hands reaching, clawing, until his fingers found purchase around Loki's ankle. His heart felt ready to burst from his chest, but he managed a strained laugh.

His brother was holding Gungnir with both hands now, but the blood continued to drip down the slippery metal. They were all straining now, the black abyss growing in size and power; even the water falling off the realm's edge was being pulled towards the swirling maelstrom. Soon, one of them would falter, and the others would fall.

"C-climb up, idiot!" Loki snarled, looking down at Thor with bared, bloody teeth. Their gazes connected for the briefest moment, and it seemed to Thor that the madness in his brother's forest eyes had been replaced with desperation. For the thunderer.

His arms were moving before he made the conscious decision to climb. Callused fingers grabbed folds of dark leather and fabric in a slow ascent. Loki's green cape was whipping around, which Thor, too, used as leverage. He never felt so grateful for his brother's wish to have so many buckles and straps on his tunics, for they only made it easier to hold on. His father and brother had to grip Gungnir twice as tightly, with Thor's jostling climb, blood dripping in rivulets down the staff and Loki's chin. He felt a pang of remorse as his hands grabbed his brother's lapels, placing pressure on his torso. Loki gave a wheezing groan, but his hold on the staff did not waver.

_It was either his coat or his hair,_ Thor told himself in an effort to assuage the guilt. He steadied a knee on Loki's shoulder, reaching up until the tips of his fingers to grip the jagged edge of the bridge. Glass pierced his palms, but the pain was easily ignored by the warrior in favor of hoisting himself up.

Without Thor's added weight, it was far easier for Odin to hold onto Gungnir, even with the ornamental spikes tearing through his hands. With Thor's aid, father and son pulled Loki onto the bridge, all three shuffling back until the pull of the void grew less intense. The wizened king wiped his bleeding hands on his cloak and watched Thor call Mjölnir to his grip, just as Loki leaned over the edge of the glittering bridge and vomited blood.

Odin stood fully now, facing the dark vortex with a grim expression. It grew at a steady pace before their eyes, and if left to its own devices it would engulf a large portion of Asgard within hours.

"How do we close it?" Thor rumbled, coming to stand beside his father.

Odin held Gungnir tightly, lone eye narrowed at the void. "We destroy it, my son."

Before Thor could reply, the Allfather was pointing the staff at the expanding maelstrom. Gungnir erupted in a torrent of energy, nearly blinding in its intensity. The light seemed to be swallowed by the void, the endless darkness only wavering slightly.

Thor's eyes narrowed in determination, arm raised towards the sky. Clouds swirled obediently above, the air crackling with energy that made his hairs stand on end. Lightning surged down with a flash, Mjölnir absorbing the static dutifully. The thunderer directed the bolt in a steady, blinding current, and the darkness seemed to dim that much more.

There was a flash, and then a blast of harsh light soared past Thor's left side, attacking the void mercilessly. They did not need to look back to know that Loki was lending his seiðr to the mix, the magic possessing such an intensity that Thor felt he might be blown off his feet without Mjölnir to ground him. Now the void truly did diminish, slowly folding in on itself under the relentless attacks. This seemed to bolster the gods' resolve, and the three currents of energy brightened, intesifying until the portal imploded, the resulting roar deafening.

Odin lowered Gungnir first, allowing the bloodied hilt of the staff to rest upon the bridge. Thor dismissed the lightning, the clouds above them dissolving into the clear night sky. He looked behind them, seeing Loki lowering his hands to clench tightly on his legs. He did not meet Thor's gaze; rather, he was staring at their father's back with suspiciously wide eyes, filled with equal parts fear, desperation, and pain.

The Allfather did not turn, did not meet the gaze boring into the back of his head. When he spoke, there was no doubt that his words were meant for Thor.

"Return to the palace, Thor. Find someone to mend your cuts."

Thor didn't want to. He did not want to leave his brother and father alone. He wanted to stay behind and explain, defend Loki if need be.

"Father, he requires the healers-"

"Go, Thor."

Loki's fists were trembling, but his voice remained steady and calm. The thunderer tried to protest, he did- but there was no arguing against that expression on Loki's face. It was clear that the trickster was maintaining a very delicate balance between himself and the madness that had taken hold of him before, and Thor's presence was not helping him.

"I- " the elder prince gave a defeated sigh, casting one last look at his father before soaring back to the castle with Mjölnir.

The silence between Loki and the Allfather was stifling, uncomfortable. Loki found he could not still his silver tongue as it betrayed him.

"Am I to be executed?"

Odin's shoulders dropped, a weary sigh escaping his lips, though he still did not turn around. "No, Loki."

"Banished?"

"No."

The younger god swallowed, looking down at the glittering bridge. "...Tortured? Imprisoned?"

"No."

"Then what?" Loki couldn't truly bring himself to care that his voice broke from desperation. He heard the sound of hooves coming towards him, but all of his attention remained on the Allfather. He suddenly seemed much older.

"You will be forgiven. My son."

Loki flinched, bloodied lips parting in shock. "Wh-what?" He cared not that his voice shook, or that his eyes felt suspiciously wet. "That's not-... You cannot be serious..." He felt gentle arms wrap around his trembling shoulders as someone knelt beside him, the smell of fresh flowers assaulting his senses. He could not bear to look at Frigga, not now.

"I have wronged you, Loki. I should not have kept the truth from you for so long. I was many centuries too late... This was my fault."

The trickster jerked his head at the Allfather's words. Rather than comfort him, they made him angry, furious even.

"Don't- don't you dare attempt to pull the blame from me! It was _my_ decision to destroy Jötunheim, _my_ decision to lure Laufey here, and _my _decision to kill him! I chose to set the Destroyer on Thor, and I chose to fight him!" Loki was snarling now, glaring with angry, wet eyes at the Allfather. "Because _I am a monster_!"

Frigga's arms tightened around the god, the gesture only served to make Loki angrier.

"Do you hear me, Allfather?! You raised a _monster_! One who _begets monsters!_ I am a _murderer, _a _coward_, and a _liar_! You should have _snapped my neck when I was an infant_ and spared yourself the shame!"

He felt Frigga's tears in his hair now, mirroring the moisture falling from his own eyes. A vile thing was clawing its way out of his chest, the rage and self-hatred swelling until it dwarfed even the burn of his ribs. He was spitting blood now, visibly fuming. And still, Odin did not turn.

_"Look at me!"_

Odin turned, and Loki had been fully expecting anger, pity, hatred... But the love and remorse in the king's eye felt like a physical blow.

"Wh-why?" he choked out, desperate green eyes staring beseechingly up at the Allfather. "Why do you _still love me_?"

"You are my son, Loki. You have _always_ been my son."

Those words broke the dam he'd been holding back for so long. Loki's arms wrapped around his stomach as he hunched over, shoulders shaking with hitched sobs. Frigga stroked his hair, whispering words of love, assuring him that _everything will be alright now_.

Loki allowed himself to hope that maybe, in time, it would be.


End file.
